


It Gets Better With Time

by cadkitten



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Anal Sex, Biological Warfare, Bombs, Family Loss, Hand Jobs, M/M, Minor Character Death, Post-Apocalypse, Post-War, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 13:30:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3571388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The memory unbidden, the fragments of the rest coming to the forefront, no matter how hard he tried to trap them down inside of himself. <i>The sound of air raid sirens, the smell of gasoline on the air... an insistent thrumming sound coming from the air.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	It Gets Better With Time

**Author's Note:**

> Song[s]: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wNYcqj8A1Tg

Aoi awoke that morning to the steady _drip, drip, drip_ of rain falling from the corner of the roof, the gutter overhang having a slight crack in it just beyond the run-down door to his sleeping quarters. Rolling over onto his back, he allowed the even cadence of it to pull him closer to the present and further away from the grasping hands of sleep. His dreams had been pleasant enough, though not overly so... at least not in a manner that required anything more of him than a simple backward-cast thought on them.

The world outside the doorframe lightened for a moment and then thunder rolled, the sound soothing despite the early hour. Hauling himself off of his sleeping mat, he padded, barefoot, across the floor to the small corner of his room that served as the bathroom, shedding his loose pants and oversized sweater along the way. Shivering at the cold air, he drew up a nice hot bath, lighting the four small candles that served as his light at this time in the mornings. He supposed he was lucky he had running water, something most people in his area and position didn't have access to.

Taking care of his other morningly business, he set to shaving his face by feel alone, something he was so used to, he could have done it even if the explosion from three months earlier had rendered him permanently blind. As it was, little spots floated in his vision, pieces of it gone for good, but it hadn't affected his job - and so, he'd remained. 

Sliding into the bath, he picked up his sponge and began to wipe himself clean of the past day's work, preparing for a new one. His clothing had been washed and hung to dry the evening before and was currently providing some amount of a privacy shield, given that his door had no lock and his higher ups liked to visit on a random basis, entering without invitation, any time of the day or night. He sank lower in the bath and sighed, closing his eyes to just let it ease all of his troubles away, the heat loosening his muscles and the aroma of his soap tinging the air with a vaguely citrus scent that made him remember another time in his life.

_Little feet pattering across the deck, the squeal of a child clearly happy with their life at that moment echoing across the fields of flowers that Aoi tended to. His face turning so that he could watch, a small smile on his lips-_

Pushing himself up, Aoi cleared his throat and swallowed away the fear that accompanied that memory. The good always came with the bad, didn't it? And too many times in life, the bad simply outweighed anything the good could have tried to conquer.

He pulled the drain plug and stood, using some clean tap water to rinse himself as he stood there. His body shook slightly, not from fear, but from something else entirely. The memory unbidden, the fragments of the rest coming to the forefront, no matter how hard he tried to trap them down inside of himself.

_The sound of air raid sirens, the smell of gasoline on the air... an insistent thrumming sound coming from the air._

Stifling a cry of agony, Aoi stumbled from the bath, snagging his only towel and violently beginning to dry himself, as if he were trying to peel the very essence of what had happened from his heart and soul with the harsh cotton material.

The flashes of memory came faster: _the sound of distant explosions and then the rain that seemed to come from nowhere at all, drenching him in a matter of seconds._

There, he managed to stop it, cutting it off before it could stumble forward onto his most agonizing of memories. Still, the loss hung heavy on his heart, the tone for the day set by something utterly innocuous and unintentional. He turned and picked up the soap, wrapping it in the paper it had come in and throwing it into the barrel beside the broken slats in the floor that served as his toilet. Pondering how they'd come so far as to have running water after the war and yet broke boards from their own floors to use the restroom through, he stood there for a moment and then shook his head, simply thankful to have another train of thought for his mind to follow.

Soap was expensive, but he'd do without for a while if it meant not reliving such a thing every morning for the next month.

He dropped the towel over the small tap and basin that served as his sink, snagging his uniform from the wires he'd strung it over and began to dress, piece by piece. First, the undergarments, then the navy pants and the button-up shirt that came down into a v, dressy for the world that was anything but, just outside that door. He knelt and pulled on his socks and then the ancient boots that he'd yet to be able to afford to replace before snagging his brand new coat from the wire. Rows of golden buttons framed both sides of the garment and it was one of the few that were left open when on shift rather than tightly closed. Beneficial during the warmer months, but hell during winter, he was sure. He'd only had it two weeks so far, a promotion for doing more than anyone else in his lower ranking position.

He let his hair flow free today, regulations like haircut and tattoos had all but evaporated in the face of more important issues, like rebuilding anything close to civilization or government. He stepped outside, remembering the days gone past where he would have pulled a phone from his pocket and called someone or perhaps checked something on the internet. But those things were no more, not even a figment of most people's imaginations any longer. He was considered old and wise at the age of thirty seven. And, perhaps, that was telling in and of itself.

Stepping off the porch, he darted to the next building and began to walk down the length of the platform, pondering how things had become the way they were. Maybe it was pointless, to dwell on the past like that, but he found it put him in a place where perspective was respected in his own mind when he did.

_The horrible events had come to a stand-still, all the death and destruction leaving the world a barren shell of what it had once been. He'd heard the bombers, seen them in the skies and watched them deliver bombs laden with fiery death to his own land. And alongside it, he'd watched the clouds of violet and turquoise pepper the air. Those had been the things that had killed nearly every human, young and old, that they had touched. The only relief had been that it was mercifully fast, no drawn-out, painful deaths for those that were consumed by it. Their hearts had simply stopped and the streets around the world had been laden with the dead, stopped in the midst of their days, never to continue them again._

Aoi paused, fishing out a cigarette a commanding officer had given him two evenings before and placed it between his chapped lips. The single match came out next and he struck it on the wall of the building, touching the flame to his cigarette before taking in a deep inhalation and tossing the match out into the rain, watching as it extinguished. A moment later, he was on his journey toward headquarters again, darting between buildings and overhangs, staying as dry as he could without the use of something to shield himself.

_The months following had been nothing but hysterics and half-hearted attempts at cleanup. Some people leapt into action to bury their dead or cremate them en masse just to get them out of the streets. There were too many to identify who had been claimed and who had not. What little fraction of government was left banded together despite any differences just to try to make it. Some part of the workforce continued as usual, those with jobs that could do without the things that had been destroyed, while others became the aimless wanderers of the streets themselves. Hospitals overflowed with those rich with mental scarring, though nearly no disease remained to treat._

Smoke filtered up into the sky from Aoi's mouth as he released another drag, a sardonic sort of look on his face. It had been that, hadn't it? That one thing that had tipped them off that someone, somewhere had authorized the mass genocide of every single civilization on earth. A culling, of sorts. Rid the young and the old, the diseased and the unfixable, leaving only the healthy behind. But what they had obviously never expected was that they'd create a new pandemic in its wake. The breaking of the mind and the heart, the destruction of the human soul and willpower after seeing so many die. Or maybe... maybe they'd foreseen that as well. It wasn't as if anyone could find the culprit of such a massive undertaking. All those manning the planes had been taken out by their own payloads; each one old or diseased, dying alongside those they sought to kill and leaving behind not a single answer.

Now, years beyond the date of that culling, civilization had done what it could. Regression had happened only due to the massive lowering of workforce and the destruction of bombs and planes crashing into vital infrastructure world-wide. The satellites that had once carried data, no doubt still orbited the Earth and the pieces of the rest still stood firmly in place. But nothing was complete. Power was decidedly a commodity reserved for those jobs that required it and not for every home. Homes were still whatever shack or surviving house anyone could claim... the only issue there was that Japan had been so tightly clustered that when one thing burned, the whole block had gone with it. When one thing had collapsed, it had taken hundreds of apartments with it, and it had left them all vying for the same homes, the same places, with nowhere to turn. And some hadn't been quick enough to realize that because their own home had gone up in flames, they should claim their dead neighbor's property as their own. After all, civilization is a hard habit to break.

At last, the lights of the capital building cut through the dull grey morning, Aoi putting out the butt of his cigarette beneath his boot and then making a run for the main doors, the huge stretch of uncovered pathway the bane of his existence in the mornings like this. A small smirk crossed his lips, finding amusement in the fact that he'd still not lost some part of who he had been if he considered getting drenched a bad thing still.

The doors opened as the got to them, the white marble and silver fixtures of the place looking awfully gaudy in comparison to what everyone else lived in. But, then, government still had to have its appearances or the people didn't tend to trust in it. He stepped onto the runner and wiped his feet, giving the men who had opened the door an apologetic look for standing there dripping. 

A light clicked on to his right and the door there creaked open, his commanding officer leaning heavily on the doorframe, gesturing him over. Aoi found himself wanting to respond the way he'd grown up seeing ranking members treating one another. But they'd all abandoned that sort of thing in favor of getting shit done years ago. Less time saluting and more time working. Less time worrying about dress code violations and more time worrying about the people in the streets.

He made his way across the lobby, wincing a bit as one of his boots squished as he walked, water having gotten into it through the broken sole. Stepping into the office, the door was firmly shut behind them and Aoi took the chair that was gestured to, sitting on the edge of the old wooden thing so he could be closer to the desk instead.

The official, Uruha, settled in his own rickety chair, pushing aside a mug of cold tea and sighing as he studied the man in front of him. "Early again?"

Aoi could have laughed at that, could have cracked some joke about being a work-a-holic... but he didn't. He knew Uruha understood what it meant, that the past had been knocking on his door and he'd bolted away from it quicker than usual this morning. After all, the sun wasn't even fully up yet. Instead, he just nodded, folding his hands in his lap and keeping his gaze on the front of the desk. "You know how it is, from things you least expect."

Uruha rested his arm on the desk, fingers playing with the wooden pencil just within his grasp. "Had one of those nights, so I understand." He frowned a little and then cleared his throat. "Listen, I know you probably don't want to talk about it now... but the proposal from the other day, have you had any time to think about it at all?"

Swallowing at the nervous lump in his throat, Aoi took a deep breath and then chanced looking up at Uruha himself. They'd known each other before all of this, not very well, but at least enough that when they'd seen one another again last year, it had been equally heart-warming and heart-breaking. It was a memory of the past, right in front of them... but also the knowledge that something had remained of what used to be. And they'd grown closer over time, despite being in completely different units, and they'd even found a sort of companionship with one another that was closer to friendship than either of them had had in years. And then Aoi had gotten his promotion and on his first day, he'd been taken in to be introduced to his new commanding officer and they had stared at one another, utterly dumbstruck.

Since then, Uruha had found out where Aoi was living and given that he had a spare room at his place... one that didn't leak and didn't have a hole in the floor for a toilet, he had asked Aoi to move in with him. The only problem for Aoi was that some part of him had been developing, perhaps, inappropriate feelings for the other and moving in with him would only encourage it. He knew Uruha had no way of knowing that his refusal to provide an answer had nothing to do with pride and everything to do with not wanting to end up in his now-boss' bed. The truth was, if the question had come three months ago, before his position change had happened, he'd have jumped on it. But now, it would just look bad for everyone and he had to take that into consideration if any of them were to be taken seriously in their positions within the government.

He took in the way the other was dressed, the slick officers uniform with Uruha's liberal alterations of it, making it more reminiscent of styles from an era long past. The cap that lay on the desk rather than perched on his head, how it should have been. And then, he really looked... the lines of sadness etched into the other's features, the dark circles under his eyes that made him look like he'd not slept in days... and maybe he hadn't. Uruha's entire being radiated depression at the highest of levels and an ache that begged to be righted for once in his life. He'd had it hard before all of this and he didn't have it any easier now with the exception of his home. 

He'd married right before it had all happened, his pregnant wife had been claimed in much the same way that Aoi's own wife and child had been. And, similarly, neither of them had found it in them to get involved with someone again, though for completely differing reasons. But now, Uruha's invitation hung in the air like a desperate plea from a man on the verge of his last stretches of sanity and Aoi dug up every single bit of his inner strength, finding it within himself to give the answer they both needed rather than the one that logic provided him with.

"I'll come. It's not like there's much to move. Once the rain stops, I can pack it all up and take it in one trip... maybe an hour's worth of work."

Uruha brightened faintly, a small light entering his eyes, even if his tired features didn't hint at it in the least. He slid a key across the table. "Mine locks still. Here's the spare, try not to lose it."

Aoi picked up the small piece of metal and tucked it inside his uniform pocket, a thanks on his lips just as the communications unit in the corner of the room began beeping. Uruha stood and made his way to the machine, Aoi taking the unspoken cue and rushing out to get on with his day.

\----

Hours later, Aoi left downtown where he'd been dispatched to deal with making an offer on some chickens to add to their stocks to dispatch to the people, and headed back toward home on foot. It would be a long walk and he wasn't exactly looking forward to it, the mud on the streets and the filth of the buildings washed off into the roadways and sidewalks once more.

He'd gone perhaps a kilometer or so before one of the few cars on the roadway slowed down beside him and the driver opened their window, offering a ride to him. He opened his mouth to decline when Uruha leaned over the seat from the passenger side and gestured him toward the back. "Suck it up and get in, will ya? I don't feel like waiting dinner and everything else for the next four hours until you're home, packed, and back at my place. It's a long walk, but a short drive." Which was nothing if not true. The walkways were designated and the driving lanes were quicker, though far less regulated than they had once been, forcing them to be as much separate from the pedestrian routes as possible.

He slid into the car, settling back against the faded leather seats and arched an eyebrow. Once upon a time, this had been a really great car. He ran his hand over the seat and then closed his eyes, the day wearing on him. "I made a deal for the-"

"No work at home... report it tomorrow." Uruha turned to give him a weary smile. "It's the only policy I can survive by, sorry."

Aoi waved a hand a bit. "No sweat... I'm happier not talking about it." He fished around in his pocket, coming up with a small bar of chocolate he'd been given and offered it up to Uruha. "For letting me move in."

Uruha accepted the sweet, settling it in his lap and studying it before laughing faintly. "You're going to pay me off in chocolate, is that it? Try to use the old things against me?"

"Try, nothing... it's already working." Aoi found the old comradery soothing, the casting off of who they were within the bounds of work, easing them back to who they'd been before that, their closeness reknitting itself as easily as if it had never departed to start with. He took in a deep breath and allowed everything of the day except this moment to fade to the back of his mind, finding that so much easier to do with Uruha near him like this.

Once they got close to his place, he was asked for directions and he winced a little, never having shown Uruha where he lived and honestly a bit embarrassed by it, given how he'd overheard the other's accommodations were. But he gave the directions anyway, not wanting to slosh through the mud more than he had to with his simple belongings. They pulled up at the end of the building and Aoi slid out, making his way onto the platform and stepping up to his door, listening for a moment before he pushed it open and stepped inside. No one was there, much to his relief. After the last time he'd ended up in a screaming match with someone who'd tried to squat in his house while he'd been at work, he'd been left alone for the most part.

Slipping inside, he quickly went to get his small amount of toiletries, putting them in the paper bag he'd brought the soap and last night's dinner home in. He pulled down the wires strung over the area and wound them, placing them in the bag as well. Picking up his sleeping clothing, he put it in the small bin with the other two outfits he owned and the old jacket of his last position, stuffing his blanket and sheets in on top. Squishing his pillow in his bed mat, he covertly slipped the two magazines he'd kept concealed under it within the roll of it and then tied the whole thing up with a strip of cloth he'd kept just in case he ever needed to move again. He left the small table and chair, emptying the last bit of his groceries out of the pantry and picking up the matches for lighting the stove. A pot and two pans and a tea kettle and that was everything he owned in this little place, most of his time spent elsewhere, only the necessities he'd been able to work for or trade off existing in his home... with two frivolous exceptions.

He remembered the soap and moved to the trash bin, retrieving it and sliding it onto the ledge of the tub, leaving it for the next person who might move in. He folded his towel as he felt Uruha's presence beside him. It was still damp and incredibly threadbare, but it served its purpose. Uruha gently took it from him and hung it over the edge of the tub. "Leave it for whoever comes. I have a few spares and they're all yours." The other's hand rested briefly on his back. "I got out of this whole thing incredibly lucky... didn't I?"

Aoi studied the scratched up old mirror across from them, watching their reflections for the shortest of moments before looking away. "No... no one got out of this at all." He moved then, picking up his bedroll and clothing bin, Uruha taking the rest in hand and following him out. They loaded everything into the car and Aoi went back, pulling the pencil from his pocket and carefully writing _vacant_ across the front of the door, knowing it would erase as it had when he'd found the place to start with.

And with that, he turned his back on the old and faced toward the new.

\---

Aoi stood in the foyer of the condominium that Uruha had been lucky enough to have lived in before everything went to shit. As the story went, he'd been at home and their neighborhood hadn't been firebombed, so it had all survived in this part of town. For a while, he'd hosted a few other people, who had long since left to other parts of the country, claiming they knew of better places, less hit places than Tokyo had been. But Uruha had just let them go, staying behind in his own home.

The result was that he still had a home in near-perfect condition, all of the repairs done by his own two hands and a myriad of do it yourself books he'd collected just afterward. Perhaps he'd been smart, picking up material on how to learn to keep his home working correctly. Aoi had known it was a great place, but he hadn't really understood just how little had changed once past the door. He felt like he had been ripped back through time.

"Don't worry about taking off your shoes in here, I'll show you to your room."

Instantly, Aoi reacted, settling his stuff down and kneeling to unlace the boots. "There's a hole in one and it'll leak water all of your house and track mud like crazy. Just give me a second." When he was done, Uruha was watching him, dark eyes studying his every move. He picked his things back up and averted his own gaze, clearing his throat. "Okay... room?"

Uruha led the way up the small staircase and past the first room, past a small bathroom, and to the last room on the upper floor. "Here you are." He opened the door, revealing a fully furnished room; the walls done in a pale grey that was bluing with age, the carpet a soft burgundy underfoot, and a large American bed, mattress and covers and all. There were dressers and a closet and even an old flat-panel TV, though he knew nothing would come from it, it was still a welcome sight, a piece of the past to let his mind pretend once in a while.

He looked down at his stuff and then across the achingly clean room and then back at Uruha. "Uh... can I leave the bed roll somewhere else so it's not griming up this room?" In fact, he felt dirty just standing here, rain-sodden and muddy from the day he'd had.

Taking the basket from him, Uruha led the way back into the hall, settling his clothing down in front of a wash basin, in a small alcove, clearly what had once held a washer and dryer, but now held an old school scrub board and basin, detergent that was obviously still remnants of what had been left from before the world fell apart lined on the shelf above it. "Feel free to wash whatever you want here. Use the detergent, it was my favorite and when I figured out we were all screwed, I found a pallet of it... there's still like forty boxes up there. Frivolous, maybe... but no one else seemed to want it. Since the whole damn store was looted except that sort of thing... I have all kinds of soap and shampoo and conditioner, too. Even bath oils. I just kept going back for months, picking up more and more things that no one wanted once it was clear it was all just open for grabs in the end." He looked a bit ashamed. "That's where I kept getting all the things I was giving as gifts at every excuse I could think of to all the other workers."

Aoi himself had received some of these gifts and he found himself grinning. "I'm afraid to ask what else you stocked up on."

"The things no one thought to grab. Toilet paper... powdered milk, a whole ton of shit from the overseas food sections because they have so many preservatives they're still good to eat, even now. Toothbrushes and toothpaste... shaving supplies, the frivolous things no one else wanted after months. I figured why was it just going to sit there when it could be used. And I share it when I can get by with it and seem like I don't have this whole house full." He shrugged.

"I'd love to wash my clothing with something besides water again... if it doesn't seem horribly unreasonable, I'd like to do that first?"

"Doesn't in the least." Uruha pulled down a box of soap that specified color-fast. "Use that one for the uniform. And feel free to use the shower and anything in the drawers and cabinets in the bathroom is free game. The stuff on the countertop is what I use. I'll move it over a bit so you can have some counter space as well." With that, he headed back downstairs and Aoi was left to his own devices. 

Pulling out the dirty magazines, he darted back into the bedroom to put those under the mattress, chuckling when he found two more under there, obviously forgotten by the previous occupant to the room. He came back out and ran some water into the basin, swirling in the soap, and then dumping his current clothing, save his underwear, in and starting to scrub.

Nearly an hour later, he'd finished what little amount of clothing he had and it was all wrung out in the wringer and hung on the small rod above the basin. He drained it and got a bit more powder, cupped in his hand, and went into the bathroom with his clothing bin. Shutting the door, he stripped off his underwear and went to kneel in the tub, washing those out there and squeezing them out as best he could before putting them in the sink. He washed his bin out with the remaining soap, something he'd not done in a long time, not having a sprayer to do it with, and then set it aside. He peeked in the cabinet over the toilet, finding tons of toilet paper there, and then went to look under the sink. Soaps and shampoos and conditioners of every variety were under there, obviously a mishmash of whatever had been on the shelves. He found two of his old brand and put them on the shower ledge before opening drawers and selecting a new razor, shaving cream, and a bar of soap that proclaimed to be 'cool breeze'.

Stepping into the shower, he unwrapped everything and set about cleaning himself more than he had in eons, even using a little under-nail brush to get rid of the grime under his fingernails and toenails far better than he had been on his own. Twenty minutes later, he stepped out and found that a towel had been laid on the counter while he'd been in there, just inside the door, obviously pushed onto the counter so he wasn't being spied upon. He smiled as he dried and then wrapped it around his waist, finding more items in the drawers, deodorant and lotion and a manicure set that was unopened. He took his small counter space and put the razor and shaving cream there, then the deodorant once he'd used it, and set about finding a toothbrush and toothpaste, scrubbing until his gums bled.

By the time he was done cutting and filing all of his nails and moisturizing things that hadn't had lotion in years, he felt like an entirely new person. Stepping out, he took and put his underwear through the wringer, hanging them to dry as well, and padding off to his bedroom.

Uruha sat on his bed, smiling at him when he came in. "Dinner's ready... but I thought you might like to wear more than a towel for it." He patted the pile of clothing. "We're about the same size and I thought these might be to your liking. I'd been saving them for a new house guest." With that, he stood and left the room, leaving behind the faint scent that Aoi had always associated with him.

He picked up the clothing items, finding all had tags on them, the dates proclaiming they'd been purchased somewhere before all of this had happened, obviously something that was supposed to end up a gift or just hadn't been taken out of the bags yet from a shopping trip. He ditched the towel and began removing tags and pulling on the items, finding it strange to be in brand new clothing for the first time in years. The black jeans fit perfectly and the slightly oversized red and black stripped sweater made him feel cozy and safe. The underwear hugged him in a way his own hadn't in years, still elastic-filled and full of years of give-and-take. He left the three pack of socks and padded downstairs after hanging the towel on the back of the bathroom door.

He paused then, just taking in the marvel of this place and how much his life had just improved in a small span of time... and how much he appreciated things he'd have once taken completely for granted. This was how life should have always been... how he should have felt every day before the disaster. But he couldn't change the past and he wouldn't dwell on it, he'd just move forward, being thankful for whatever came to him or whatever was earned.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he passed through the living room with the nice, though worn, couch, and across the well-worn carpet to the kitchen. He paused, seeing his own pot and pans soaking in the sink, and his food on the counter below the pantry shelves... and then the dinner set out before them. He could have laughed. Macaroni and cheese... he'd not seen that in years.

Settling down, he accepted the can of very flat cola and picked up his fork, digging into the creamy elbow pasta with a groan. They didn't talk for the duration of the meal, Aoi only voicing his thanks once the meal was inside of him rather than on the plate in front of him. "That was amazing, thank you."

"It's amazing the first twenty times and then you wonder where your sanity was, taking a whole three cases of it." He smiled a little. "I've found a way around the butter and I think it works pretty well to duplicate the original intent."

Aoi settled back, one foot on the chair, his knee hugged against his body as he studied the other. "Why me? Why'd you pick me?"

Uruha stood up, taking the dishes and putting them in the sink with the pans to soak, staying there, with his back to Aoi for a moment before he spoke. "Because I know you're interested in me... and the feeling is mutual." He turned then, studying Aoi as he wiped his hands on a threadbare kitchen towel. "We're both lonely and we enjoyed one another's company so much. But then I became your superior and things changed, the inevitable course where we'd have ended up together vanished and it left a sour taste in my mouth. One more thing ripped from me. And I'm a selfish man... so I decided to fix it so that that choice would be there again if you chose to take it."

Aoi's lips parted and he breathed out a small chuckle before pushing himself out of the chair. "Maybe it is selfish... but if it is, then I am, too. When I walked into your office that day, all I could think about was how all of my chances just got ripped out from underneath me." He shook his head. "I'd been so close to telling you how I felt, but I guess I never needed to, did I?"

"You're an open book." Uruha put the towel aside and reached under the island in front of him, pulling out two tumblers and a small glass bottle, pouring a splash of amber liquid into each. He pushed one across the counter and held his own up. "To the future."

Aoi took hold of the glass and delicately sniffed it before murmuring, "To trying our best in this world," before taking the swig of liquor, letting it burn all the way down, satisfaction easing over him. 

Seconds ticked past and then Uruha came around the counter, gently grasping Aoi's hand and leading him from the room and up the stairs. They stepped into the master bedroom and within seconds, they were lost to the feeling of one another. Hands explored and tongues plundered long unexplored depths. Fingers trembled and long-unused skills came back into play as the pair moved from the doorway to the bed, leaving a trail of clothing in their wake.

Aoi tumbled back onto the bed, readily accepting whatever way this was going to play out, just needing the contact of another human being after so long of not having anyone so much as lay in the bed beside him at night. Every touch was welcomed and met with enthusiasm and equivalency. Every kiss returned and every trail blazoned, mapped equally upon the other man's body. 

The moment his thighs were parted, he couldn't help but let his breath hitch and the instant that first finger slipped within him, he cried out from the building tension. Just by his fingers alone, Aoi was worked into a frenzy, his fists grabbing handfuls of the sheets and his back arching from the bed as he panted for breath. Everything about this turned him on more than he'd ever recalled being in his entire life.

Uruha moved over him, sliding his fingers free and parting his legs, pressing his lips to his ear and breathing out, "Are you ready?"

"More than you know," Aoi returned, his hands grasping at the other's back now, trying to pull him closer as he narrowly held back his own needy whimpers. It had been too long... too many years since he'd felt like this, since he'd even desired contact in such a manner, and now he wanted it all so badly he was near convinced he'd find his end the second he was penetrated.

But Uruha eased himself in, going slow and gentle, and Aoi managed to hang on, cursing softly under his breath as relief poured over him. So long he'd waited on this, on feeling this close with someone again, and now he was getting it from the very person he'd desired it to be.

They began to move in tandem, Aoi wrapping himself around Uruha, rocking with him, their moans and grunts of satisfaction becoming a delicate choir in the room until Uruha finally gasped out, "I can't, I need to- oh God!" And he began to pound into him, all of his control snapping in a single moment.

Aoi spread himself further for him, his cock straining between them as he was so thoroughly fucked. Time stretched out in front of him and then all of a sudden it burst before his very eyes and he released a cry he held no control over, Uruha's hand wrapping around his length and quickly stroking. Within seconds, he was spurting his offering across his own stomach, Uruha moments behind him, cumming deep inside of him, too far gone to even consider pulling out.

The pair remained tensed and moving jerkily for near a minute before Uruha pulled out and collapsed to the side, panting for his own breath.

Aoi turned on his side and studied the other, reaching to push back some hair from his forehead, and breathed out his one request for the night. "Don't make me leave... just tonight, let me stay beside you."

Uruha drew the comforter over them and tugged Aoi closer to him beneath it, tucking his nose under his chin and breathing in his scent. "I'll never make you leave."

It was in that single moment that Aoi realized he'd found what he'd been seeking for years, and even as he drifted off to sleep, a small smile graced his lips. A sign that, perhaps, better times were to come.


End file.
